


Just Throw Bec Noir A Stick It's Fine

by unluckyxse7en



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Meteorstuck, PTSD, back at it again with this angsty stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 08:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unluckyxse7en/pseuds/unluckyxse7en
Summary: Tensions are pretty high once everyone finds themselves stuck on a rock hurtling through space for three years. As tempers flare, there may or may not be some drama and acrobatic flips off many handles.





	Just Throw Bec Noir A Stick It's Fine

**Author's Note:**

> I just can't stay away from that good old Davekat angst, can I?  
> By now I'm sure there's an obvious pattern forming in these, but I've had this on the backburner for a while so let's get it out there while I'm thinking about it.  
> also do I get an award for silliest and only vaguely related title ever? Probably not I bet there are even sillier ones out there.

“YOU KNOW WHAT, STRIDER? YOU ALWAYS SEEM TO HAVE THE SMARTASS ANSWER FOR EVERYTHING, DON’T YOU? WELL WHY DON’T YOU JUST FUCK OFF AND TAKE YOUR WISECRACKS ELSEWHERE??”  
You freeze up like you’ve been struck across the face. The troll across from you heaves angrily, practically foaming at the mouth. His whole body seems to bristle as he glowers evilly at you, almost daring you to say something witty, to just make his fucking day. You blink, and swallow, expression blank even underneath your shades. You’re rather thankful your eyes are obscured, and that years of having a permanent poker face beaten into you have stuck. Karkat Vantas doesn’t seem to notice how rattled that left you.  
You take a moment to consider your next words carefully - given that not considering is what got you into trouble in the first place. But your mind draws a blank, leaving you only one possible non-volatile response.  
“…Okay.”   
You turn to leave, eyes briefly catching on your sister’s concerned expression as you spin around. A part of you hopes she won’t try to stop you.   
As you turn your back to him, you feel Karkat’s anger dissipate as it turns to confusion, almost hearing the gears in his brain turning to a stop.  
“WAIT, what?” He queries, baffled, but you’re already halfway out of the room, and on your way to some other part of the meteor that doesn’t have people - or trolls - in it. You think you hear him say your name - quieter than usual, almost imploring? Nah, must be a trick of your imagination. You seriously fucked that one up, he got so fucking pissed. There’s no way he wants you in that room any longer.   
You’d almost think it was Rose, but that’s not quite her style. Knowing her, she’ll probably use those fancy seer powers (or her ‘extensive knowledge of her dear brother’, whatever she wants to call it) to sniff out whatever hiding place you stake out, and talk to you then. You just hope that’s what she’ll do. Maybe she’ll even be polite enough to give you time to breathe before grilling you.

As Rose would later tell you, Karkat did actually seem genuinely concerned when you absconded as abruptly as you had. She’d tell you that you hadn’t imagined it, that he did call after you, albeit too weakly for you to fully register it in your shut-down haze. 

But that would be later. Now, you were stalking through the dark, isolated hallways of the meteor. They were finally becoming familiar to you, but still felt distinctly foreign. Alien. Like you weren’t supposed to linger there. It never helped that you’d hear things in the air vents as you went. Kanaya frequently seemed to attribute such sounds to that whacked-out juggalo character you met back when you and Rose first joined. But that knowledge didn’t make the noises any more reassuring. Especially given how Kanaya was prone to equipping her weapon whenever it happened within her earshot. 

Presently, the derelict halls were eerily quiet, making their abandoned atmosphere unsettling to your keyed-up nerves. You continue outwardly undaunted, aware of your slippers scuffing against the metal tiles, the faint sound of your cape rustling as it flows behind you. That was the nice thing about your cape - made you look epic when leaving no matter what the situation, even when you were turning tail to go hide in a corner somewhere and bawl your eyes out. Not that you were going to do that. Totally not. You just need someplace private to handle all this pent up, righteous fury Karkat had instilled in you. Yeah, that was it.  
Who were you kidding. 

After some time walking, you find a small offshoot room, some distance away from the general living spaces the meteor crew tend to frequent. You decide it fits your needs of being away from the others, as well as unpopulated by the looks of it (largely untouched, in fact, if the dust was any indication). It also was not your room - which was away from the others, but also it would be too easy for them to follow and find you there. You really don’t want anyone hounding you right now. you choose to enter the abandoned room and close the door behind you, having just enough foresight to check the lock before shutting it completely. You REALLY didn’t want to find you’d somehow locked yourself in after all of this. Not again. 

Standing in the room for a while, in the dark, letting your eyes adjust, you breathe in the stale air, letting your mind wander as you begin to pick out the shapes of stray boxes and furniture. Inevitably, your brain returns to your oh-so-spectacular fuckup, and soon all you can hear is Karkat’s furious ‘FUCK OFF’ playing on loop in your head. Despite yourself, the edges of your mouth tense, and you sink down to a sitting position on the floor, ignoring the fact that your clothes are going to get dirt all over them. Drawing your knees up to your chest, you fold your arms on top of them and rest your chin on your arms, eyes unfocused as you reflect on recent events and words traded. 

It was just supposed to be a joke. Ok, maybe there had been some passive aggression hidden in there. But it was largely supposed to be more humorous than critical. You had been watching Karkat flip his shit at your sister for a while, over Jack fucking Noir, and thought maybe it was time to lighten things up with some of your patented ironic humor. Between the two of them - an overwrought troll who clearly spent most of his time overthinking and stressing over everything, when not yelling at others; and a passive-aggressive, well-meaning but honestly not good at pep talks, blunt know-it-all Seer of Light, you knew things weren’t going to diffuse anytime soon. 

Rose hadn’t seemed too bothered, herself- everyone had long since gotten used to Karkat’s frequent histrionics, and it seemed as though half the shit that poured out of his mouth was never as harsh or abrasive as it first sounded. Rose being Rose, seemed to gladly take that over anything she interpreted as a gesture of passive-aggression. But a guy could only take so much yelling and drama, even if Karkat was a hilariously never-ending shitshow to watch ordinarily. Besides, Karkat had seemed to be freaking out a lot, even by his standards. So while you normally left him alone to his antics, you’d figured maybe it was time to lighten things up, change the topic perhaps.

“You know, it’s not like Jack’s that big a deal. I mean for fuck’s sake, He’s just some dumb flying dog. We could probably trick him, real easy. Pretend we throw a stick for him to fetch, or something. That’ll keep him busy.”

The moment Karkat had turn to face you with such an expression of unabashed, incredulous awe you knew you’d picked the wrong time to say anything.

“OH WOW. FUCKING WOW, YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU’RE RIGHT. WHAT DO WE HAVE TO FEAR FROM SOME BRAINDEAD BARKBEAST WITH THE POWERS OF THE FUCKING GREEN SUN. DOES HE WANT TO SLAUGHTER US ALL WITH AN UNENDING PASSION AND DRIVE? SURE, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? THAT’S OKAY, BECAUSE HEY! WE CAN ALWAYS THROW HIM A STICK, LET HIM CHASE THAT INSTEAD OF US! GREAT IDEA, ASSWIPE, WHY DIDN’T THAT COME TO STEW IN MY RUDDY THINKPAN??? OH WAIT, NOW I REMEMBER WHY - BECAUSE AS FAR AS THAT NOOKSNIFFER IS CONCERNED WE ARE THE FUCKING STICK,” He spat.   
Every word had hit you hard, soaked in vitriol and fury. You’d frowned a bit at the suddenly redirected aggression - you hadn’t expected it to feel so personal.  
“Dude, has it ever occurred to you to take a chill pill? It’s not like he’s here now anyways,” you’d snapped back. That was when shit hit the fan and you had gotten hit with that Fuck Off of epic proportions. 

Thinking on it, you’re not even sure why you’re taking this so seriously. What does it matter, he was just riled up and you happened to exist right then. Honestly it’s a wonder he wasn’t yelling at you before regardless of your input in the matter. Yet still you find yourself sitting in this dark room by yourself, gripping the fabric of your sleeves as everything bounces around in your head. This is so stupid. But it just keeps happening. Over and over and over and over.

You’re not sure how much time has passed (what else is new on this godforsaken rock) when you hear footsteps echoing down the hallway, approaching your door. You stiffen, listening carefully.  
“Dave? Are you in there?” You hear a voice rasp at the door. Shit it’s him. He sounds like he’s calmed down exponentially which is a plus. But after many long years replaying this sort of scenario, you don’t dare risk it. It could be a trap, or a ploy. Or you might say something to set him off again. So you stay still, unaware you’ve even stopped breathing in your best attempts to cloak your presence. The silence seems to drag on, neither party moving, and after what seems to be an eon you hear him speak again.  
“I’m coming in,” he calls, just loud enough so that he can be heard without shouting like he always does. Which is uncharacteristic, but you don’t notice. You’re too busy panicking, contemplating if making noise would be worth diving into a hiding place. You’re frozen in place though, your mind racing a mile a minute, as the doorknob turns and the door creaks open, light from the hall streaming into the room.   
You see the silhouette, and your breath hitches lightly. It’s just Karkat’s, but it reminds you of things still fresh in your mind. Everything feels like it’s slowed down and you have no idea if it’s just adrenaline or your powers, but you hear him speak and are brought back to the present moment.  
“Dave, what the grub-loving fuck are you doing in here?” Karkat intones, concern tinging his voice. You don’t respond at first, trying to remember how to breath. He’s still standing in the doorway, he hasn’t approached you yet.  
“How did you know where I was,” your voice is shaky and uncertain, and barely sounds like it came from your own mouth. Karkat huffs lightly behind you, and you feel your muscles tense in response.  
“I didn’t,” he admits, almost bashfully. You hear the fabric of his sweater rustle in a shrug.  
“I just tried every place I could think of until I found you sitting here,” He says it nonchalantly, but the meteor’s a big place. That doesn’t sound like a small feat. That or he just was really lucky and found you really quickly.   
“So what are you doing crying in here anyways? This is sort of a piss-poor place to do it in,” He notes, glancing around at the dusty furniture. The corners of your mouth tighten, and you resist the urge to reach up and surreptitiously mop your face. He can’t see it anyways, your back is still turned to him and you haven’t risked looking over.   
“I’m not crying,” you reply automatically, keeping your gaze fixed on his silhouette rather than Karkat himself. Your eyes study every subtle movement of the shadow, trying to gauge what his next response will be with every exchange.  
Karkat scoffs at this reply, and finally makes a move to enter the room.  
“Sure you weren’t, and I’m a hoofbeast’s ass,” he retorts calmly, walking not towards you, but instead almost as if trying to walk around you, giving your space a wide berth before he stops a distance away and settles down as next to you as he can. He must’ve seen your flinch when he’d taken his first steps into the room - or perhaps he already knew how tense you were from the start. A moment of quiet passes, before Karkat glances over at you, leaning back on his hands. 

“Hey…” He says, somewhat softly. You grunt back, as neutrally as possible, in response. A part of you is now painfully aware he can see your face now, and probably the tear tracks and reddened, raw eyes. But you’re still too tense, too frozen in place, to reach up and dry your face off.   
Karkat studies you for a minute, gnawing on his lower lip thoughtfully. His eyes drop, his expression rather morose.  
“I uhh… I didn’t mean to go so out-of-my-pan ballistic on you like that,” He starts, turning his head away from you, shifting in his seat. He looks like he feels as painfully vulnerable as you do. Regretting your words the moment they leave your mouth, you snort derisively and cut him off.   
“Whatever, man. You don’t need to pretend to make buddy-buddy with me, I know you can’t stand me,” you say thickly, turning your own gaze away from him just as his head snaps up to look back at you. You feel his stare as he starts to speak, but the room continues to stay silent. Concerned by the lack of action, you risk letting your eyes slide back over to look at him.   
He’s still sitting there, mouth ajar as if someone pressed the pause button on him right before his usual verbal torrent could be unleashed onto the world. But his expression… You couldn’t even begin to describe it. So much confusion, and frustration, and hurt, and regret, and god knows what else. His eyes flicker around, alternating between staring at you and staring miles away, as he tries to formulate whatever it is he really wants to say. Shit. You knew when you said it you were probably being a bit harsh but this was not the reaction you could’ve expected in a million years, least of all from him. 

Finally, he closes his mouth, looking thoughtfully resigned as he swallows. Now it was his turn to weigh his words.  
“Dave, I …. look, I don’t hate you,” he pauses, just long enough for you to find another opening to stick your foot in your mouth.  
“whoa, dude. I didn’t mean to like, insinuate that you had that whole weirdo troll love-hate thing for me, I just meant—“ Karkat’s sudden startled expression gives you just enough warning before he cuts you off, his usual tones of gruff irritation lacing his voice once more.  
“Wait wha— I didn’t mean like THAT, asswipe!” he growls, only to catch himself. He clears his throat roughly, looking away again. You curse yourself mentally for visibly flinching at his sudden sharp tone.  
“That wasn’t my point. I don’t…” Karkat sighs in brief frustration, running a hand quickly through his thick mop of unkempt hair.  
“I don’t know how I feel about you, but that’s not the point. My point is, I don’t think so little of you that I wouldn’t give a single blistering fuck if someone took a giant hoofbeast for a spin across Skaia and trampled your blood pusher a few dozen times in the process,” he huffs, falling quiet for a moment long enough to allow the sentence to sink in. Your brows knit together in confusion as you stare at him, trying to parse his meaning in saying all of this.  
“So… ok, what the fuck does that mean?” You huff in exasperation, giving up any attempts to understand. Karkat grumbles, avoiding looking you in the face.   
“I mean, you sure looked like you’d taken a few solid trompings when you left earlier…!” Karkat was bordering on snapping, but recovers just in time to fix you with an unwavering stare.   
“Look, just… just give those flaccid things you call ears some exercise and listen for one bleeding, festering minute, okay? I’m sorry. I’m truly, fucking sorry. Sure, you’re a gog-damned bulgewipe who knows how to get on my every aching nerve, but even you didn’t really deserve such an acrobatic flip off the nooksniffing handle like I had done back there, and I just wanted to say it, okay?”   
Your mouth hangs open slightly as you register what he said. For once, words fail you and as per usual, you find yourself reacting emotionally in ways that just don’t feel necessary.   
“….. Oh,” you manage, dumbly. Karkat’s eyes dart uncomfortably between meeting your stare head on and as far away from your view as possible, trying to gauge your reaction as the seconds pass uncomfortably.  
“Wow. Um….” You stall, bringing yourself to pinch the bridge of your nose in thought, pushing your sunglasses up towards your forehead, as you try to find the means of speech. The gift of gab was once your greatest strength, but now it seems to have loped off somewhere like a wounded beast, of to hide fuck-knows-where until it deemed things appropriately less off-the-walls crazy.   
Unfortunately, your attempts to keep the conversation going only get so far. Finally unable to take the atmosphere, Karkat stands up, somewhat abruptly. You unconsciously start at the sudden movement, but it seems to be leftover nerves rather than any lingering fear on your part.  
“Anyways, that’s all I wanted to say, so I’ll let you get back to your weird trance-in-the-dark hour, I guess?? Have fun sitting in this dingy asscrack of a room,” His words seem to stumble out of his mouth, none of their trademark Vantas venom present in even the most profane words. You watch his back as he stalks to the door self-consciously, unable to bring yourself to move. Finally, words return to your mouth, granting you one final chance to not mess everything up.  
“Hey, wait,” You call, voice breaking slightly, almost as if those few minutes of disuse had forever damaged it. Looking bewildered, Karkat takes a glance over his shoulder back at you, meeting your stare uncertainly.  
“…. Thanks. For the apology, I mean,” you manage, almost lamely. Karkat blinks at you, thoughtfully, before turning back to the door, providing a neutral shrug in response.   
“Yeah, no problem,” he replies, and leaves.  
Silence reigns once more. You’re not sure how long you sit there, once more alone on the floor in a dark, empty, dusty room. But after a little bit of time, processing that conversation, calming those nerves…. You feel like maybe, it’s time to quit moping like a sadsack in some dingy corner of the meteor.   
With some protest from your muscles, having grown stiff from tension and sitting on cold, hard tile so long, you stand, and leave the room almost sheepishly. You return to the comfort of your own bedroom. Rose drops by to talk to you. She tells you what Karkat did when you left, you tell her what Karkat did when he found you. You both talk about the underlying stress, about how much shit has hit the fan since playing that damn game. Rose admits to how much she worries about you. You admit that maybe… You’re someone who gives her reason to worry. But you appreciate her support. Awkward sibling hug, that becomes less awkward as both parties settle into it, happens. Emotions are calmed and moods lifted. You finally feel ready to spend time in the common room again. And when you do… You find that a certain angry troll, seems a little less angry at you than normal.


End file.
